


Well Met By Moonlight

by Beetle Brownleaf (monsterlover)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Animal Death, Biting, Blood, F/M, Werewolves, monster smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27346399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterlover/pseuds/Beetle%20Brownleaf
Summary: The mighty hunter Zenos searches for the beast ravaging the local livestock and gets a bit more than he bargained for.This was written for a Halloween contest and features Sephonine, my OC in my fic Companionship, whom I ship with Zenos.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Well Met By Moonlight

The air was brisk and clean, the moon was full and bright, and the fog had risen over the ground. Yes. This was it. This would be the night.

The night he would finally track down the beast.

Zenos tied back his hair as he drew his scarf over his mouth and nose - he would not have his breath giving him away. His knife in his vest, his crossbow at his back, he was ready for the beast the townspeople had spoken of.

And what a beast it was, if the massive claw marks, deep, wide tracks, and countless slaughtered livestock were anything to go by. Slaughtered being quite an appropriate term - the bones and mere traces of parts deemed unworthy of consumption were the only indications that the animals had even met such a grisly fate. That, and one account by a startled farmer’s daughter, describing a “massive, hairy, red beast” with “eyes like blood” and “claws like scythes”. While Zenos was not wont to believe such accounts given by frightened adolescents, when it involved a potential hunt? He was all too eager to seek it out. Even if it was not a “beast”, he was certain that whatever it was, it would look quite lovely mounted on his wall.

And if it was a beast? Well. The thought excited him, to say the least.

* * *

The vast wood in the middle of the village seemed to be where the carnage led to, and where any accounts had reported the beast disappearing into. He began at the unmarked path where the bones of its last conquest still remained (several unlucky deer). He noted the same claw marks at a tree he'd seen before - broad, large marks, at a rather notable height as well. Too tall to be a bear, that was for certain.

He took a deep breath, focusing on the sounds around him; the rustling of leaves as the wind blew, the chirp of insects, the occasional hooting of owls. Further and further into the wood he would go, looking for any other signs to confirm the beast's existence.

And then he heard it - the distant sound of a steer crying out in pain, a cry that was cut off almost instantly. 

His heart raced. It was hunting. And once it finished, surely it would return to its place in the wood.

And so, he would wait, squatting hidden in the brush.

The distant sounds of more livestock being killed filled the air - what a mercy it was, he noted, how quickly they seemed to meet their demise. This beast was a skilled, precise hunter; a thought that thrilled him. A true challenge.

* * *

The fog rolled in thicker as he awaited his prize. Waited, and waited… and waited, until he began to lose heart. The moon was now high above the sky, its light punching holes in the dark canopy of the forest.

He shivered; the air was colder than he had anticipated it to be. He brought his hands to his mouth, pulling down his mask to breathe on them for only a moment, and the sound of his own breath made him realize just how utterly quiet the forest had become. Strange. But intriguing. He pulled his mask back over his face and continued his vigil, looking and listening with heightened interest.

Wood creaking in the wind, crickets in the grass, the small waterfall far away - and then a deep, loud, thundering growl, rumbling through the air. His heart’s pace quickened, it was such a pervasive sound one could feel in the very bones, it must have come from something  _ enormous _ \--

And then an echoing, piercing howl filled his ears. It did not sound like anything he had heard before in tone - not a signal, not a cry of pain, not a warning or a cry for help, but… triumphant? Yes, that was it; there was a decidedly pleased noise to it. Perhaps with a bit of a challenge. The beast, not satisfied with its killings, ready and willing to make another. 

_ How very alike we already are. _

He stayed low and alert, heart hammering in his chest.

But then, nothing. Nothing at all. Not even the wind. It disappointed him. Much as he knew the fickle nature of beasts, he also knew that not every hunt was successful--

And then the howl again, this time  _ loud _ , pounding right into his chest. Wolves? It was strange - it was a solitary sound, but it was far too loud to only be just one wolf, surely?

His thoughts were interrupted by the subsequent sound of another sound - a deep trilling, slow and steady like breathing, and  _ very _ close.

The sound of thudding footfalls turned his head, growing slower, but heavier, louder. 

He could not tell where the beast was coming from, and slowly he rose, readying his crossbow. Surely the beast would come out into the clearing at some point… 

His heart began to quicken, and he had to grit his teeth to keep them from chattering. The sounds grew louder… and louder… 

And then his blood froze in his veins as he felt a looming presence beside him. A dark, furry snout lowered itself next to his ear, breathing heavily. He went to pull back the mechanism to load the bolt, and was met with a massive, strong set of claws gripping his arm. He trembled as he gazed at the long, bony scythes curling around his wrist. Zenos was certainly not a small man, either - so he could imagine just how large the rest of this beast was.

“I would not do that, were I you.”

A jolt went through his body as he made a shocked gasp - it  _ spoke? _ His breathing was audible, panicked despite himself.

“Why don't you be a good boy and put that down, mm?”

Frightened and confused, he obeyed, his trembling hand releasing the crossbow. He abstractly noted in that moment that its voice seemed feminine. 

"Mm," she growled, burying her muzzle into his neck, a gesture he recoiled in fear at, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. Her teeth caught on his mask, which she tore off him. He gasped, trembling as her heavy huffs of breath bathed his skin. Her breath carried a scent which incited an inexplicable heat within him, which only frightened him more.

"You smell  _ delicious _ ." 

He stood there, mouth agape, chest heaving as he weakly formulated a reply. 

“Let-let me see you,” he pleaded, “Allow me the dignity to look my death in the face.”

She merely chuckled, circling round him, running her claws delicately along the leather of his vest. When she came back to face him, he swallowed - hard. She was beautiful, truthfully: a towering, bipedal she-wolf, with silken crimson fur and eyes like rubies. Every inch of her looked strong, from her thighs to her middle to her arms, from her tail to her massive arms and shoulders. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze drifted to her chest; her breasts were exposed, muscular and taut but still so lush and bountiful. The heat rose within him, and he pointedly looked upwards into her eyes to avoid staring at them, which provoked a hearty laugh from her.

"Hah! So modest, such a gentleman," she mocked, "You are facing death at this very moment, and all you can think about is not gawking at my bosom."

He felt his face flush hot, and his eyes wandered every which way - looking into her own eyes was unnerving, but looking anywhere else naturally led his eyes downward back to her bust. It was as arousing as it was terrifying, and that admittedly thrilled him. His mouth ran dry as he watched her put her claws around them, unable to look away. 

"Mm, do I tempt you, dear hunter?" she teased, "I must say, the feeling is mutual. You are positively  _ mouthwatering _ ."

He gulped audibly, eyes wide. He wasn't quite sure if she meant to eat him or to have him - the former terrified him, but the latter made his mind run wild with dark, lurid fantasies - which, frankly, also terrified him.

“I have watched you for some time, hunter,” she admitted, licking her chops, “Hunting in my wood. Such a delightful little thing… so fast and so strong, hearty and hale, mm…”

She inhaled his scent once more, and the heat in his body only grew.

“I bet your blood tastes just delightful.”

She drew closer and hovered over him, teeth dripping and tongue churning in her mouth. She lowered the massive appendage and licked a broad, languid stripe over his neck, to which he could not help but shudder and moan.

"Ohh, the salt of your sweat tastes different than most," she remarked, "You are afraid, yes. But I would also say you are  _ enjoying  _ this a bit, are you not, my hunter?" 

He shivered from the cold meeting the wet skin. He was. Gods, he was - he always lived for the chase of the hunt, for the fear and the danger. But this was something else entirely. Fear and awe of her might, certainly, but she thrilled and delighted him as well - such strength, such power, such  _ beauty _ . 

She put a hand to his face, pulling down his plush bottom lip with a claw, the tip just barely intruding upon the inside of his mouth before lifting away to tip his chin upwards.

"Well?" she teased.

Zenos could not deny the throbbing in his cock, the tingling of his lips that begged for further contact. Frightening as it was utterly strange, it was the truth; he was attracted to her.

"Yes," he whispered, voice hoarse, "I am."

She chuckled, the breath huffing from her snout blowing his hair out of his face and bathing him in more of her scent.

“May I touch you?” he found himself asking, immediately fearing he may have offended. Instead, she gave a wide, toothy grin.

"You may."

The breath he had been holding left him, and his body moved as if on its own. His hands went to her breasts, and he made a soft groan - they were so deceptively soft, filling his grasp to the fullest, spilling out of his hands. Their hardening peaks between his fingers made his lips tingle, and his tongue darted out over them.

"Go on," she encouraged.

He did as she spoke, drawing one into his mouth, moaning as he softly lapped at it. Her massive claws rested at the small of his back, gently but in a way that reminded him that she could rip into him at any time she desired - a thought which only thrilled him more. He ran his other hand along the soft, downy expanse of her stomach, down further… and he took in a sharp breath when he felt her arousal. Running his hand further downward, his finger jumped when he felt plush, velvet lips below. It really was tremendously soft, softer than almost anything he'd ever touched, and it throbbed with a warmth that made him forget the clammy chill of his hands. He embraced it fully with his palm, shuddering from the feel of it all. It was a bit larger than he was used to, so it took a bit of exploration -

" _ Ahh _ - _! _ " 

...and soon he found the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex. He gently dug into it with his thumb, and the beast moaned, steadying herself on his shoulders. The thrill of the claws just barely dancing at the skin of his neck goaded him on, and soon he was dipping his fingers inside.

"Mm,  _ yes, _ " she growled.

He found a steady pace within her, and he relished in her body's reactions, the sheer  _ strength _ of the muscles, the way they closed in around his fingers. He grew harder at the thought of them around his length instead. She shuddered as she approached her peak, and he suddenly pulled away and stopped.

"Please, allow me," he said, lowering to his knees. She nodded, quick to catch his meaning, and he hungrily dove his face between her legs, moaning  _ loud _ ; her scent and her taste were both wonderful, to say nothing of how she felt - such a massive creature was she, the swollen bud at the meeting of her thighs was large enough for him to wrap his lips around. He pressed his tongue against it as he drew it further into his mouth, and she gave a shrill whine. His heart pounded as every breath pulled more of her scent into his lungs which ignited a fervor within him - once which he used to increase his pace within and without, and soon he saw her chest heaving as she panted. She was close. He looked up: she, haloed by the full moon, shuddering with delight, jaw slack and eyes fluttering. She gazed down at him and cooed fondly, putting one of her massive hands against his head, at which he sighed. 

"Good,  _ good _ ," she hissed, her voice growing darker. He would oblige, fast and hard as she liked, until she howled with pleasure, her slickness soaking his hand.

He fell back a bit, looking up at her, and he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. Her taste seemed to melt upon his tongue, filling him with heightened desire. Even when he removed his hand, the lingering scent was so much  _ stronger  _ \- he felt it filling his nose, his lungs, and it sent him into a sudden blind delirium of lust. His chest heaved, every foggy breath punctuating the newfound heat climbing over him, prickling in his face, blooming in his belly. His legs fell open to accommodate the ache within his cock, which he could not help but stroke from outside his trousers. He needed release - badly.

She hungrily growled and pushed him onto his back. If she had intended to eat him, she was fully at the advantage now.

“Patience, boy,” she said, voice ragged and low.

He eagerly undid his vest and shirt, and she pushed his hands away and dragged her claws down his chest, leaving blooming red stripes across his pale flesh. He gave a shrill moan, writhing as his eyes rolled back - the pain was exquisite, so fresh and raw against the cold night air. She allowed him to remove his trousers, and then bent down to lap at the blood, to which he squirmed. 

“Mm,  _ delicious _ , just as I thought,” she growled.

His length was as hard as it could possibly be, and it twitched with a need for contact. She could see this, and she ran her tongue along the underside, wet and hot.

“P-please,” he begged, bucking upwards, “I-I need--”

“Shhh. Calm yourself. It is my scent; it drives you to madness,” she said, “A madness that will be soothed, I assure you.”

She adjusted, making sure she would not crush him, and lowered herself onto him. His back arched, and he gripped at the grass as he felt her wet heat around him.

“Take me,” he hissed, “Take me,  _ take me-- _ ”

“All in good time,” she said, “Mm, you fill me so well, my hunter - I have never had any human’s as good as yours.”

He could only lie back, surrendering himself to her completely. She moved against him, and that thought about the strength of her muscles resurfaced as he felt her grip tight, so impossibly tight around him. It was the strongest force he had ever felt upon him, and it left him a writhing mess beneath her. She hovered above, moving slowly, allowing him to adjust to the feeling. When the assault on his senses had finally evened somewhat, he mustered the strength to look up, and his eyes conveyed a plea that he could not voice, but which she understood regardless.

She bent down and took her tongue to his lips, dragging it over them as he sighed. A kiss, of sorts. He loved it, so warm and wet and decidedly affectionate. She would do it once more, this time parting his lips with her tongue, gently pushing it inside and allowing his to dance along with it. 

"Mm," he hummed, reaching out to lay a hand on her muzzle. His lips caressed her tongue, sucking on it and drawing it in further, a gesture which she took advantage of; she gave him more, brushing the back of his throat with it, a sensation he found unexpectedly arousing. When she withdrew it he felt lesser for its absence.

She dug her claws into the ground above him and began to thrust against him, their lovemaking now beginning in earnest.

He all but thrashed from how good it all felt, back arching, arms splayed behind him as he moaned and cursed and cried out. Every thrust was pure bliss, tight and hot and wet - and gods, every time she found her peak, how she gripped so tightly around him; it was a wonder he had not found his own yet.

“...so good, oh, you feel so  _ good _ ,” she growled, her claws tearing into the earth, “Oh how you fill me, my hunter. I should have taken you ages ago…” 

He could only moan, unable to speak through the onslaught of sensation. He made up for his lack of response by touching every part of her he could reach; he took her breasts in his hands once more, kneading and rolling their massive, stiff peaks in his fingers. 

“Good boy, good boy,” she cooed, visibly trembling. 

Her tail rose high above her, and she lowered herself down, her feet digging into the ground to anchor herself as she thrust. He lifted his hips, and she howled, his cock now hilted deep inside and angled perfectly for her. His legs shook, thighs aching from the strain; it took his everything to stay that way, but how thrilling it was, to know he could please her so. He began to thrust with her, shaking with every meeting of their hips.

“Ohh, I feel you, I feel you,” she said, “I  _ smell  _ you  _ \-  _ how close you are.”

She moaned, and he whined as she felt her close tight around him.

“ _ Give me your seed, _ ” she growled, hungrily.

He let out sobbing groan; he did not wish to cum so soon. He longed for her to reach her pleasure time after time, never wanted the night to end. But who was he to deny her? Again and again he would thrust, his body now drenched in sweat, covered in soil and blood, his hair undone and thrown every which way. He was a debauched mess, and though he could not see it, he knew - and it thrilled him.

“I’m-I’m going t-to--” he sputtered, eyes rolling back, chest heaving.

“As am I, as am I,” she panted, encouraging him, “Go on, my hunter.”

“I need… p-please…  _ make me bleed _ ,” he begged, voice shrill and desperate.

He wanted the pain, wanted the marks it left. She gave a pleased growl, licking her chops, teeth flashing in the moonlight before she firmly sank them into his shoulder with a rumbling, satisfied growl. He cried out, and just as he felt the fire ignite in his belly, she closed around him again, a sensation he expected, but then she _kept_ closing around him, tighter and tighter and _tighter_ \- he could not have pulled out of her if he tried, and he abstractly realized it was to keep him hilted inside her to accept his seed. He shuddered and gave a whimpering moan, finding it far more erotic than he probably should have. Further her teeth sank, and tighter _still_ did she squeeze round his cock, until he reached a blinding climax, his back arching high, eyes rolling all the way into his lids as he _screamed_ out into the night - and then his vision went completely black.

* * *

He awoke with a start, rising quickly, then wincing, remembering his wounds. He blinked, looking around: it was morning, and he was home. The kettle whistled on his stove, and he could smell something being cooked. He was clean, his wounds were dressed, and his sleeping clothes had been put on him.

Slowly, he rose out of his bed, freezing when he found a beautiful woman standing at his door: tall, buxom and dark, with the same crimson hair he remembered so fondly, the same ruby eyes.

“You _ , _ ” he breathed, “It is you, then?”

She smiled, holding a mug out to him.

“Good morning, my hunter.”


End file.
